Innocence Lost
by leggylover03
Summary: Pippin's POV during part of the fellowship
1. Default Chapter

Title: Innocence Lost

Summary: Pippin's POV during part of the fellowship

Disclaimer: I do not own the wee hobbit or LOTR

A/N: This is only my opinion of what he might of thought. Any reviews are welcome, flames just amuse me

Pippin followed along behind the other three hobbits, not really caring where they were going, only glad that he was invited along. He often spent time with Merry reeking havoc, and getting caught, but it was all in fun and no harm came from their pranks. He however was not allowed to play with Frodo his cousin often for he was much older, and did not enjoy his antics as well. Now he was frightened and he did not wish to show his fear in front of the others lest they think him a coward. In the past days black riders had chased them, a man named Strider had taken them even further from their home, and now they were on the way to the elves for Frodo had been stabbed.

Once there Pippin thought they would journey home, and had helped Sam pack the bags. They saw frodo and saw he was healed, but they came to find out their trek this way was not quite done. Frodo was to take the ring to Mordor, the place Pippin had only heard about in scary stories. He was not going, there was no way he was going to that place. He and Merry watched the meeting from their hiding place and then Pippin watched as Merry rushed forward to join in and he could not be left behind, not again.

Struggling with each step Pippin found himself frozen to the bone, and exhausted. There was never this much snow in the Shire, and he only wanted out of it. He did not know that they would next be driven into a mine, barely escaping a monster. What waited inside the dark dwelling was even more frightening. Bodies everywhere and for once Pippin was glad it was dark to hide his tears of fear. Running after Gimli they found themselves in a room, once again filled with bodies, but also a shrine of sorts.

Everyone stood as Gimli grieved but Pippin grew nervous with nothing but death around him, and tried to occupy his thoughts. When he touched the arrow it set off a chain reaction, sending the clattering noise echoing off the walls. Everyone glared, and the wizard called him a fool. Pippin had not time to think of his decision or to let the words sink in as the room was filled with the horrible creatures Strider called orcs. His heart pounding Pippin once again drew up the blade and rushed forward, hoping he would not die, hoping his heart would not beat out of his chest.

Pippin stood in awe, in horror as Gandalf fell. The wizard was their guide, his friend for many years, always coming to the Shire to delight him since he was a child with his fireworks, and now he was gone. Pippin could not move, it was his fault. Had he not alerted the orcs that they were there Gandalf would be alive, he would still be there to guide them. Pippin did not feel Merry as he shoved him out the door, he did not notice the smell of clean air, or the wind on his face. He dropped to his knees in anguish, not ever having seen death, not ever having to watch as someone slipped from the world. He could not glance upon Frodo again for when he had the look of hopelessness overtook him and seeped every ounce of joy from his heart. He had caused this tragedy by being a fool, always doing what he should not, and even the comfort from Merry could not stave off the flow of tears. Onward they would go from this point, but Pippin would be forever scarred, no longer the innocent hobbit that left the Shire. 


	2. Part 2

Title: Innocence Lost

Summary: Some Pippin POV's in my opinion during the fellowship

Disclaimer: I still do not own the wee hobbit

A/N: Any reviews will be welcomed, flames will not

Chapter 2

Peregrin Took felt as if all joy had seeped from his heart. None of the others were speaking to him. This was not the worst of it, for they also were not speaking to each other. Pippin wondered why the air had become quite still, but he did not wonder for long as he found himself at arrowpoint.

Up and up they went to what Pippin thought must be a thousand steps. His body was tired, his mind a constant whirl of emotions. Mixed with the sadness from before, now was a sense of peace. He did not understand it, but the first glance of Galadriel he knew. This was beauty that could not be matched.

Why, he wondered had he felt so violated, so ashamed as the Lady of the Light seemed to stare into his very soul. Why had she looked at him when she had said the curiosity of one shall cause great sorrow. Sleep would not come so easily to Pippin, his dreams plagued by seeing Gandalf fall, and the cold, cruel eyes of the orcs that pursued them. All of these things could have kept him awake for days, but it was the tears that had flowed silently down Frodo's face, that kept the youngest member of the Fellowship awake.

They were off again, not on foot but in boats, given to them by the elves. Pippin was not fearful of boats like most hobbits, but as he did not know how to swim he only hoped that Boromir could keep him atop the water. He had grown fond of the man from Gondor, understanding how he felt when the others cast wary glances at him. Pippin himself was often excluded from things, called a bother, a nuisance.

Land, Pippin's hairy hobbit feet were once again on dry land, and he heaved a sigh of relief. He got out of the boats along with the others, and followed Aragorn's lead. Soon they rested and Pippin was happy to put up his feet, and rest for a few minutes, the previous nights lack of sleep catching up to him. Merry had asked if he was all right, but Pippin had put on the same mask of a smile and told him all was fine, a lie only Pippin knew.

It was supposed to be a peaceful rest, but Frodo had gone for wood, and now he was telling them he was leaving. Pippin had looked up to Frodo since he was a wee thing, always asking him questions, always tagging along with him and the others. Before Pippin could beg Frodo to stay Merry jumped from his hiding place, causing the uruk hai to see him.

The fear Pippin felt he swallowed, his love for his friend Merry overwhelming all else. With a leap he joined Merry, leading the vile things away from Frodo. Ten minutes later as he and Merry found themselves surrounded he wondered what fool thought had caused him to do this. Was he to die, here in the woods like a animal, without his family, without laying eyes upon The Shire again?

The shout that found Pippin's ears was the greatest sound of all. Boromir had come to their rescue, come to chase away the creatures of Mordor. He was a man of Gondor, his sword mighty, he would kill them, and the others would soon come, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

Pippin's eyes bulged as the first arrow hit Boromir; the sound of it he would never truly forget. He stood frozen, unable to move, unable to draw his sword. His friend, Boromir now had two arrows protruding from his chest, and yet he fought on, never wavering in his fight. Merry screamed, the sound of it waking Pippin from his stupor as the third arrow hit Boromir. Pippin let the tears of hurt and anger seep from the corners of his eyes, but his heart was stone cold. He had never had a desire to take a life before, but he wished to kill those who had taken Boromir from them.

Pippin waited, his sword drawn, flinging himself at the uruk hai, expecting death, and awaiting it. He was surprised when they picked him and Merry up and carried them further down the path. Pippin fought against them to no avail, his sword falling to the ground. Further away they got, until he could see Boromir no longer. He could not imagine what new horrors would await them, his thought though prayed for the others to find Boromir. Would they know of his courage, his honor, trying to save them? Peregrin Took closed his eyes to wash away the image, and the tears cascaded down his face, as his lips sent out the prayer for Boromir, man of Gondor, but more importantly, his friend. 


	3. Part 3

Title: Innocence Lost

Summary: A few of Pippin's POV's during the fellowship

Disclaimer: The wee hobbit would be groped therefore I cannot own him

A/N: These are just my opinions of his thoughts, any reviews are welcomed, flames will be given to the LOM for fun

I would like to now say THANK YOU to all who reviewed. Ice Ember, shadow929, Ithil-valon, Elven Kitten, and Aranna Undomiel. Many thanks for making my day with your reviews and kind words.

Chapter 3

Peregrin Took worried, not for himself but for Merry. His friend had been hurt by the foul creatures that carried them even now. He was startled when Merry had awoke, and even more so when he choked on the black substance poured down his throat. Pippin had meant for it to help Merry, not hurt him even further. He wanted to comfort Merry, as Merry had done for him so many times, and yet again he could do nothing.

Pippin worried for Frodo and Sam, and for all the others he could not longer lay eyes on. True, he was not much help to begin with, always doing the wrong thing, but that did not make his intentions any less noble.

Pippin was afraid, the orclike creatures had spoken of wishing to eat him and Merry. Pippin had been a lover of food and ale, but at this moment he did not know if he would ever find the urge to eat again. He had wanted to flee, to get away, run, but he would not leave Merry behind. It had been Merry all those times as a child who had included him, all those times who had taken up for him, when others had pushed him around, and now he would not leave him.

The screams were deafening. Everywhere around him Pippin saw uruk hais fall, arrows sticking out of eyes, chests, and throats. He shuddered, his stomach churning up the bile until he fought back the urge to retch. Was he destined to die here among these creatures? Was his body to never be found, alone to breathe his last breath surrounded by the very things that had taken him?

Pippin was not ready to die. Crawling to Merry he prodded until Merry awoke. Looking back at him were those same eyes, the ones he had seen many times in The Shire staring back at him as they fled another prank. Motioning for Merry to follow Pippin ran for the only place left, the forest.

Pippin thought they had escaped their fate, but he soon found himself staring into the face of a tree, a tree that was staring back at him. Pippin screamed, fighting to get away, fighting with his mind to make it go away. Where was Merry?

Pippin thought Merry insane. The blow he had taken to the head must have caused some damage for he was talking to a tree, and the tree was talking back. Many times he and Merry had been so drunk they had woken up in various places in The Shire, but never had Pippin been drunk enough to talk to a tree. Pippin's was about to object to the conversation when he saw the orc pin Merry down. Forgetting everything he fought bravely to get free, his frustration mounting as the grip from the branches grew stronger. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see Merry die by the hands of the orc, but when he opened them Merry was quite alive, and without thinking Pippin let out a squeal of delight.

Accustomed to riding atop Treebeard Pippin and Merry were now headed to battle. They knew somewhere the other members were fighting, slaying all those who waged war for Sauron, and they would not be left behind. Pippin had tried to talk Merry out of going, tried to make him see clearly, but Merry would have none of that.

Am I a coward just because I do not wish to die, as Gandalf, and Boromir did? Pippin thought, and still Merry stood up ready to fight. Could he march into battle not knowing if he would come out alive in the end, to feel death's grip take him? As he looked out into the expanse that had been forest, when he thought of how the others had died trying to save the world from devastation without heed, Pippin knew the answer. He sucked in a breath and marched off to tear down the walls of Isengard and rid Middle Earth of its darkness.

Peregrin Took stood beside Gandalf, hoping the wizard was asleep. He wanted to peer into the black orb again. It called to him, kept him from sleep, and gnawed away at him. Without another thought he grabbed it, waving off the protests from Merry. What harm could it cause?

The pain hit him instantly, the waves of terror taking over his mind and soul. Before him he saw death, destruction, things never meant to be seen, and yet he could not tear his gaze away. The palantir spoke to him, a horrible voice asking questions, Pippin could not answer. It was not that he did not know the answers, but something in him fought the darkness that tried to take him over. It wanted the ring, it wanted Frodo.

Pippin woke to Gandalf staring down at him, the others standing fearfully in the background. Pippin's eyes did not miss the look of disappointment cross their faces. He only wanted to hide away in shame, his mind still reeling from the images. He would be haunted by them forever, the screams of agony, the pleas.

There they all stood before Theoden of Rohan. Pippin listened as Gandalf spoke on his behalf, but Pippin knew that once again he had done something to put them all in danger. Following Gandalf outside he asked, but got no answers. Merry seemed angry with him, upset that he once again had dragged them into another dilemma. Pippin could feel nothing but sorrow. Why did he do it, why could he not control himself? He had no answers.

Gandalf swung Pippin upon Shadowfax, and told them they were headed for Minias Tirith. Pippin waited for another horse to be led out for Merry, when none came his heart began to beat rapidly. He accepted the tobacco from Merry and watched as tears started to roll down his face. Why was Merry crying, why was he waving as if to say good-bye? It then dawned on Pippin that he was leaving, and Merry was not to follow.

"Merry!" Pippin screamed over and over till his throat was raw. He had watched until no glimpse of him could be seen, and knew that all of it was his fault. He could not be without Merry, he was his friend, his protector since he was but a wee hobbit. A sense of loss surrounded what had once been his courage, his heart and soul. He was alone now, Merry was not here, Frodo and Sam he had no idea. Hanging his head Pippin cried, silent tears rolling down his face. "Am I destined to always cause pain?" he thought. He knew he was alone, but he thought back to the look on Merry's face before he lost sight of him. Merry had been there still waving to him, tears flowing, and yet he had muttered his friendship. Pippin fell asleep on Gandalf as he rode to face some new terror, Merry's last words playing over and over in his head.

" I do not know if we will see each other again, but I am here, always," Merry had said placing his hand over his heart. To Minias Tirith, he was headed, but his heart had been left behind in Rohan, with Merry. 


	4. Part 4

Title: Innocence Lost

Summary: Pippin's POV's during the fellowship

Disclaimer: I still do not own them

A/N: These are merely my opinions of what Pippin could have been thinking. Reviews are welcome, flames keep me warm

Reviewers!

aquitaineg: Thanks, the views are from one to the next, not lingering on any certain thing for long.

Elven Kitten: Thanks!

shadow929: Thanks lots! I also love the wee hobbit

Aranna Undomiel: Wonderful review, thanks!

Karri: Thank you! I love to try to figure out what they may have been thinking

Chapter 4

Pippin stood beside Gandalf, listening to him lecture about Denethor. Pippin was beginning to think Gandalf thought him a total fool, by the way he was speaking. True, his first sight of Minias Tirith had Pippin sucking in his breath, trying to stave off the fear he felt, but now Pippin had reclaimed his fears and laid them aside.

A long white room, and a man sitting upon a chair beneath a throne. Pippin felt very small in this room, like he was a child again, begging to be noticed by the others, who were much bigger. Solemnly he stood in front of Denethor, but when he heard the choked words uttered, Pippin's heart sank.

This man was without his son now, and by the look of sorrow on his face, he had loved him deeply. Pippin felt an overwhelming courage enter his heart, and before he knew what happened he pledged himself to Steward, and Gondor.

Pippin stood staring at the uniform of the guard. Was he supposed to fight? Were these men without good sense, he was not a fighter, he was a hobbit. The very thought of fighting sent shivers of fear down his back. Sure he had fought in Moria, but that was an impluse reaction, a rage filling him as he saw Frodo.

He wondered about Frodo, and Sam, and what could be happening to them. Walking to the balcony, he spoke to Gandalf, hoping the wizard could ease his mind. At the end of the conversation Pippin's heart felt even heavier, without hope in it. That night as Pippin laid in the bed, his mind would not rest. He tried to close his eyes in sleep, but the thoughts of death's cold embrace froze his heart, and clouded his mind. He was too young to die, too young to leave this world behind. His eyes would not close tonight, fore when they did the sight of he and all his friends, cold and dead, stared back at him.

Pippin stood by Denethor's side, as he was served the lunchen meal. Pippin's own stomach rumbling in hunger. He was about to ask his leave when Faramir walked in. Pippin liked him, as his eyes were those of a gentle man, not at all like his father. Pipin listened as Denethor sent Faramir away, possibly to his death. How could he be so cruel? Did he not see that Faramir only wanted his acceptance? Pippin's own eyes felt the prickling of tears forming as Faramir walked away to what seemed certain his death, willingly.

A song? Did Denethor actually ask him for a song, after he had sent away his son to die? Pippin did not wish to amuse the Steward at all, much less serve him. The very thought of serving him now made Pippin's stomach roll with bile, yet he feared the insanity that surely Denethor had. Singing a tune his own father sang at the passing of kin, Pippin tried to think good thoughts. With each line he choked on the next, his words becoming jumbled with the tears rolling down his face. At the end Pippin swiped at the tears, and begged leave of the room. Once outside of it he slowly sank down to the floor and wept. He wept for choices, his choices that had led him here, and the cruel choices of Denethor. 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Innocence Lost

Summary: Pippin's POV during the fellowship

Disclaimer: I do not own the wee hobbit, lest he be covered in drool

A/N: These are my own thoughts, not necessarily the right ones

Chapter 5

Pippin ran to the courtyard when he heard the cries that someone was nearing the gate. He hoped that it was Faramir, but when he saw the lone horse his heart sank. His eyes filled with tears as, trailing behind the horse, he saw the arrow riddled body of Faramir being dragged. No one noticed the single hobbit, but they heard his scream reverberate off the stone walls of Minias Tirith.

Running, gasping, Pippin knew he had to reach Faramir, had to see with his own two eyes that he was dead. Falling to his knees beside him, Pippin was ready to give his last goodbyes to his friend, but he saw a flicker of life still in his body, a small breath being taken.

"He is alive!" he yelled, but no one was listening, Again no one paid him heed, just as always happened. He begged, he pleaded, but in the end they dragged Faramir's body to through the open door and slammed it in his face.

When Pippin found out Denethor wished to burn him alive he panicked. For his cries of rage he was quickly and uncermonialy thrown out on his ear. Knowing Gandalf was his only hope, Pippin took off running through the chaos to the white wizard.

When Gandalf had taken him atop the horse, Pippin was relieved -- they were going to make it in time -- but as they rounded the corner, his heart dropped. The most hideous thing he had ever seen stood in their path. Pippin's courage welled within him when he saw Gandalf's staff shatter, and he raised his sword to meet this new foe. One look, however, sent him screaming, trying to drown out the voices in his head.

The nazgul turned before it could strike down the two that clung to each other in horror. Pippin did not know why, nor did he care. Snagging Gandalf's attention again, they were off towards Denethor and his madness.

Pippin sat atop the horse as they burst through the door. Behind the many guards that only the day before he had befriended lay Faramir, covered in oil, and beside him was Denethor. The look on his face sent shivers through the tiny hobbit, but he would not let his new friend die, not like this, not burned alive by his own father.

As Gandalf pushed Denethor from the pyre, Pippin jumped into the flames. The heat was so intense, and he pushed to try to move Faramir, but he was a hobbit and Faramir a fully grown man. The weight difference was considerable, but where Pippin did not have the brute force, he had the stubborness of four men. With a strength driving him forward, he pushed Faramir from the pyre and slapped out the flames on him.

This struggle was over, but outside the fighting raged on. Merry was outside, somewhere, and Pippin had to find him. He was lost without his friend, but this time apart had shown Pippin he could stand by himself. There would be many more battles before the war was over, many challenges for a wee hobbit to face. Was he ready to stare down the face of his enemy again so soon? Would he falter in his courage then?

Pippin did not know the answers to this, but he was determined to fight for the freedom of Middle Earth. True, the Shire was still untouched by this evil, but if he and the others did not stop Sauron, then no place would be left untainted.

A/N: it is very short but I wanted to get it updated 


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Innocence Lost

Summary: Pippin's POV during the fellowship

Disclaimer: I do not own the wee hobbit or LOTR

A/N: This is only my opinion of what he might of thought. Any reviews are welcome, flames just amuse me

To those who reviewed

Eleven Kitten: Thank you!

xtyuru: You have given me one of the highest compliments! That my fic brought you to tears, as it so often does me as I write

Chapter 6

On the edge of the battleground stood one lone hobbit. He had not participated in the actual battle, but the scars from it touched him nonetheless. As he surveyed the mounds of orcs bodies, he spotted Eomer carrying what could only be Eowyn back inside, and his mind whirled. Why wasn't Merry with them? He wanted to ask of his friend, but Eomer's eyes were haunted with the death of Theoden.

He saw the usually stoic face now brimming with tears, the look of loss on his face shining clearly through. Pippin thought her dead and wept for her. His tiny body sat there amongst the dead, weeping for Eowyn, for Theoden, and for Boromir. Why was so much death necessary? Why were they taken why he stood here alone in his fears?

Wiping his hand across his face, he took in a deep breath and wandered through the bodies. He was looking for only one thing, and that was the piece of himself that had been broken away, that was Merry. 

All day long he searched, turning over body after body, getting nothing in return for his efforts but eyes staring back at him, forever their gaze now locked in a cold death. Now the day was spent, his clothes smelled of blood, his hands were marred with the black and red smears from the victims who lay beneath his feet, yet he could not stop. He had to find Merry, even if it took him all night -- and it nearly did.

Pippin stopped, his arms tired from lifting the dead, his eyes weary from the tears, and his feet sore from stepping on shards of broken swords, but he spotted it out of the corner of his eye -- an elven cloak -- and he ran.

"Merry!" he screamed, running towards him, and then he stopped, if only for a second. What if Merry, too, were dead? Could he face the reality of his friend never sharing another secret, never helping him pull off another prank? Not caring about the outcome, he flung an orc body from Merry and rolled him over. He saw not the playful eyes he was used to, but tearful ones. Merry looked defeated; his arm had a black tinge to it, and Merry could not lift it.

"I am going to take care of you," he whispered, and that was what Pippin was determined to do.

It was a long trek back to Minas Tirith, and Merry could not walk unaided, if at all. Pippin scanned the battlefield. Earlier there had been many warriors carrying off those who were injured, but now all that he could see were those weeping over the dead. He would not be deterred, though, and, with a grunt, he hauled Merry into the standing position.

For over two hours Pippin weaved in and around the bodies on the battlefield. His eyes which were once lost in the innocence of The Shire and its surroundings, now knew death, destruction, and the look of death in all its shadow. He was tired, his feet wanting to give way beneath him, his mind whirled with images. The most prominent was the illusion he had that Gandalf could defeat anyone, and now even that had been shattered, like the wizard's staff.

As he made it into the lower level of Minas Tirith, Gimli spotted him and took Merry from his arms. Pippin followed and watched Aragorn glow with a golden light as Merry's injuries were healed. He had come to know him as Strider, a filthy and yet nice ranger who had led them from their homes were it was safe and into evil's playground. He held respect for this man, for he had stood in harm's way and had searched for Merry and himself, slaying many foes to get to them, but even he could not help Frodo and Sam, and this weighed heavily on Pippin's mind.

In a couple of days they would leave again for a new battle; the plans had been overheard by the inquisitive hobbit. He sat upon the edge of a window sill, his feet dangling over. Already they had lost so many. True, Eowyn had lived, but Theoden had fallen, along with many others. Denethor was gone -- even in his madness, Pippin had seen his love for Faramir at the end. Pushing everything else from his mind Pippin looked back at Merry.

"I will protect you my friend," he whispered to the sleeping hobbit.

Pippin had not left his side for the last two days, and now he knew what he had always known -- that one day Merry could no longer protect him. One day Pippin would have to throw away his carefree illusions of childhood and walk alone through the world, and today was this day. He would face battle with courage, with the determination of a hobbit whose innocence was gone, replaced with the battle scarred soul he now carried. 


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Innocence Lost

Summary: Pippin's POV during part of the fellowship

Disclaimer: I do not own the wee hobbit or LOTR

A/N: This is only my opinion of what he might of thought. Any reviews are welcome, flames just amuse me

Elven Kitten: We like sad Pippin, makes you just want to hug him!

shadow929: I wish to hug the hobbit as well, and thanks!

Gods-girl2004: errr Sorryyou do not like the fic, perhaps yours will be more to your liking.

Well I want to thank those who reviewed. Now on with the fic!

Chapter 7

The morning sun was a bitter sight for the hobbit. His night had been spent conversing with Merry, sharing tales of what had happened to each while the other was away. Pippin had learned that Merry loved the Lady Eowyn, but knew she could never love him back, This was a shock to Pippin, as he had only know Merry to be a carefree hobbit who liked to pull pranks and send the other hobbits into fits of rage at their antics, not one who could fall into love with another.

Pippin, in turn, told Merry of the witchking and the breaking of Gandaf's staff. Until that moment Pippin had thought the Istari invincible, that nothing could ever defeat him, for he had battled death and returned, so to see him fall had crushed the hobbit's hopes of survival in the war.

As Merry rolled over in his sleep, Pippin stared out of the window, glancing down at the still smoldering embers of the last fires for the burning of the dead. Already the war had taken so many, Theodred and his father, Boromir, and even Gandalf had fallen to the evils of Sauron.

What of Sam and Frodo, Pippin thought. Did they yet still live? Pippin did not think they could have survived long out in the wilds of Mordor, but in his heart he held a small glimmer of hope for them, even though Gandalf had warned him it was a fool's hope.

Today they were to ride out to meet the Black Gates head on. Faramir still lay in the Houses of Healing, trying to recover from his ordeal with the orcs and then his father. Pippin hoped he could be healed, not just physically, but mentally as well. Pippin knew that Faramir had lost everything, his father and brother gone now, and Pippin hoped he could find someone to share his grief with, for Pippin considered him a great friend.

Pippin sighed as the last of the morning passed and woke Merry. After putting on his armor and donning his sword, Pippin turned and grabbed Merry before they walked out. "Today we are going into battle. I, for one, fear that battle and do not think it will end well. If I should fall, I want you to know my love for you as a brother in arms, and for you to know I have been honored to call you a friend."

Merry choked up at these words and placed a hand on Pippin shoulder. "Only a year ago I thought you a nuisance at times, someone who always got me into trouble, but now I see standing before me a warrior, someone that is no longer a carefree hobbit living in The Shire, but one who has witnessed the horrors of battle. Come, let us go now one more time and face down the enemy. Let us give Frodo and Sam the chance to end this evil, and should I fall today, let it be known that I am forever in your debt."

Pippin wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Why are you in my debt?"

"Because despite all that has happened, Pippin, you have the one thing that no one else has -- hope."

Together they rode out to meet Sauron at the Black Gate, Merry behind Eomer and Pippin riding with Gandalf. Legolas had taken the time, Pippin noticed, to braid Aragorn's hair in the elvish fashion, and he looked now like a man determined to win. Aragorn called out inside the gate, asking for Sauron to show himself, but what came out was not Sauron, but the Voice of Sauron; a man, Pippin supposed, that was horribly figured, with a covering over his face.

Pippin shuddered, a strong urge to be sick filling him. He listened as the thing spoke, telling them that Frodo was not now trying to reach the fires of Mordor as planned but somewhere inside, dead. Pippin screamed out in anguish.

"No!", he screamed, not wanting to believe his friends were gone. The thing only spoke of Frodo; what of Sam?

Pippin didn't think Frodo would be anywhere without Sam and assumed Sam had also died, trying to protect his master. His eyes filled with tears, his mind a jumble of thoughts. Had all their efforts been in vain? Had Theoden and the others died for nothing?

Pippin had cried out, but had been hushed by Gandalf, told not to believe the lies of this creature, but the creature pulled from its side the mithril vest worn by Frodo and threw it out onto the ground. This time the cry in Pippin's throat could not be silenced, and he wailed in grief. As his eyes widened, he watched Aragorn take the head from the creature and watched its body fall from the horse.

"Now is not the time for tears, " Aragorn spoke, "now is the time to take back our lands and rid all of Middle Earth of the foulness of Mordor."

Pippin listened, his heart gaining a new desire. He would have revenge for those who had been lost. He would avenge Frodo and Sam and Theoden. He would avenge Boromir, for Faramir could not. He would avenge them all, and to death take their glory with him.

When Aragorn finished his speech, the men of Rohan and Gondor answered back with cries of war. Aragorn raised his sword one last time and raced toward the Black Gate, but it was not the strong men of Gondor, or even Rohan, who followed him next but two little hobbits who led the way into battle, their stature small, but their hearts and courage larger than any foe they would meet. 


End file.
